


Stolen Goods

by Meowmessenger



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Arthur loves him anyway, Eames is a bit of a dick, Fluff, Forgiveness, Holidays, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Resolutions, New Years, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6913666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowmessenger/pseuds/Meowmessenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spontaneity had never been Arthur's strong suit. He liked order and tailored suits and Eames's perfect smile. Although he didn't like the last one anymore.</p><p>Or at least that's what he told himself before he somehow ended up being stuck on some godawful holiday in freezing England with fucking Nash and a cliff that somehow felt like it was taunting him. And ok, maybe Eames's smile was nicer than he remembered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Goods

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short fluff piece that I wrote. It wasn't actually written as an Arthur/Eames fic but I wrote it with those characters in mind so it was quite easy to adapt.
> 
> |~*~| = Arthur ~*~ = Eames

  
A cliff stood in his way. In a more literal way than he ever thought one would.

|~*~|

Spontaneity had never been his strong suit.

He preferred order. Order amidst all the ongoing chaos. He liked to wake at 6:10am sharp, shower to the length of a single song, dress in a pre-planned outfit, drink a coffee (black, 1.75 spoons of sugar), check emails and be out the door by 6:40 on the dot.

It was nice really, his little routine. His desk was never cluttered and he was never late, as his body clock was perfectly trained.

But this was a new year. A brand new 366 days of which he could do as he pleased. Sort of.

Arthur had never really seen what all the fuss was about a new year. It was just another day turning into the next. Yet somehow his best friend had got him to venture out to a club where the music was way too loud and the countdown made your ears bleed. Then at the strike of twelve she screamed excitedly and kissed him chastely on the lips. Her breath smelt like cheap beer.

Even in his completely drunken state he wiped the offended lips with the back of his hand.

The next day he had one hell of a headache.

Ariadne roused on the couch as he stumbled out of his uncomfortable position in the armchair. _Why the hell did I not just sleep in my bed?_

Downing a pint of water and swallowing three paracetamol tablets, he resolved to never let Ari make him do anything again.

This resolution of sorts lasted just shy of two weeks when he found himself by some coastline in freezing England wrapped in not nearly enough layers.

'Why on earth are we here? We couldn't have stayed in Paris?' He grumbled, kicking pebbles round the path, watching them sail down the cliff face.

'We're meeting with my cousin and some of his mates, as well as Dom, you know Dom, right?'

'We worked in the same coffee shop for a term,' He paused to look up to the grey mass of sky as if it held all then answers, 'I think.'

'Great! Get that glum look of your face, it'll be fun!' Arthur turned to her always smiley face, glaring daggers. 'Repeat after me. Funnnnn.'

'Shut up.'

'Nah.'

|~*~|

In the next two hours, Dom arrived with his girlfriend, Mal, and a battered looking camper van bumbled its way into the driveway of the pub/bed and breakfast.

Nash and co.

Ariadne ran to the van and welcomed her cousin with open arms and a cobra like grip. He mussed up her hair and attempted to lift her up, for which she kneed him in the stomach.

Arthur came outside to see this event, leaning against the doorway of the pub, current novel in hand.

Two more jumped out the van, wrapped up in coats and blankets, teeth practically chattering. A lad clad in a woolly hat could be seen pulling suitcases out the other side.

Arthur, in all of his gentlemanly politeness, went to go and help.

The wind nipped at his bare forearms and the soft, unruly brown curls, he had spent so long desperately trying to tame, flew all around his head in a halo.

The man in the huge coat and stupid hat had his back turned to him as he shouted, annoyed,

'You know some help would be nice!' As he lugged another frostbitten suitcase from the van. Ari and the others leisurely made their way round to help. Slowly but surely.

'Here, I'll take that.' Arthur offered, reaching his arms out to take the suitcase from hat man.

'Cheers mate.' He said _and why did that voice sound so familiar?_ Turning round to pass the case to Arthur's outstretched arms, Arthur took one look at his face and let the case slip from his fingers.

It dropped to the floor dramatically.

_No fucking way._

_Eames?!_

He was sure his jaw had dropped and that his eyebrows had disappeared off his face, as they shot up sky high. He was aware he must have been quite a comical sight.

Regaining his composure Arthur coughed. 'What are you doing here?' He asked, tone accusatory.

'What are _you_ doing here?'

'I'm with Ariadne.'

'Well I'm with Nash.'

'I can see that, you got out of his van.'

'Well why did you ask then?' Eames raised a smug eyebrow at him. A smug eyebrow on his stupid, conceited, perfectly symmetrical face.

Arthur frowned to himself. 'You could have been a stowaway.' He murmured.

'It's good to see you.' Eames said, voice softer, kinder, manipulative.

He turned to see the rest of the group watching them, confused looks planted firmly on their faces.

'You know each other?' Nash asked.

Arthur nodded. Eames spoke confidently, 'Well, know is far too weak a word. Artie and I go way back.'

'Way back is far too strong a phrase.' Commented Arthur, glaring at him. 'And don't call me Artie you jerk.'

'Arthur is far too boring a word, darling.' Eames drawled smoothly. 'It's in the top ten most common, isn't it?'

'No, not in America anyway.' Arthur corrected, feeling up the ridge of his nose with his fingertips. 'And at least I'm not so embarrassed by my first name that I never use it.'

'Feisty as always, aren't we _Ari_?'

Arthur kicked him in the shin, pushing past him to retrieve the suitcase he dropped. The rest of the group gave him strange looks as he darted through them to the pub. Ariadne snorted at the fact that they could now have the same nickname.

~*~

Eames could not believe his luck.

He had only agreed to come on this stupid break with that egotistical weirdo Nash because it meant free breakfasts for a week and a break from his parents who were outwardly judging him for taking a gap year.

Always criticising, never complimenting.

Also Rob had nagged the hell out of him. Pleading and begging until he had an actual friend coming with him. So here he was. Going on holiday by the sea in the middle of bloody winter, of all things.

After a tedious journey in the back of a freezing van, he'd thought he wanted nothing more than to be back home sleeping in his bed. That was until he saw who was offering to help him with the bags, as, he would like to point out, no-one else was doing; lazy fuckers.

The voice had sounded familiar with its obvious American accent and clipped, professional tones.

Seeing him again made Eames's heart thump louder than a rocket taking off. He expected his pulse accelerated in quite the same manner as well.

Arthur King.

Who would have thought?

His long lost... Something.

Eames had never really been sure how to define their relationship. For a while he had thought that they were just experimenting, that one day he would settle down with a nice girl, blonde probably, and Arthur dearest would realise he was asexual.

But no. It turned out that the little work-bot did have feelings of a sexual nature and those feelings were more than a little gay. He also had emotional feelings that he had been managing to conceal all too well.

Eames guessed this is where he kinda screwed everything up.

He had never been one for long term relationships. He wasn't sure if it was because he didn't really like emotions in relationships or just because he had commitment issues.

Yet when he lost Arthur he felt an emptiness in him which made him feel miserable and like he was permanently in that state of when you first wake up in the morning and immediately want to go back to sleep. Even his mates noticed he was a bit off and they didn't give two prawn crackers about him.

So while Arthur was a studious, little work-bot, Eames was a sad, broken wind up toy without him.

Anyway he decided, way before the New Year, that getting into a serious relationships was going to be his resolution. Of course this gave him many months to efficiently complete lots of meaningless hook-ups, and with the prospect of a 'real' relationship in 2016, he eventually got over Arthur.

Well, sort of...

He finished his degree in performing arts - _'Now what the hell do I do with this?'_ \- and continued working small jobs and saving up for the gap year of his dreams.

It had been a thing that the pair had had in common; both wanting to take a gap year after University and before they started getting serious about work and a mortgage and taxes, or whatever proper adults do.

Eames found himself feeling quite lonely when he didn't have Arthur to share the experience with.

But now, for some unforeseen reason, the fates had offered him a second chance.

When he first saw Arthur he wanted to jump for joy but obviously he couldn't let him know that he was jubilant to just be in his presence. It would do terrible things to that all too modest ego of his after all.

~*~

Shaking off his many layers, he placed all his clothes on the radiator, taking a moment to appreciate the warm. He welcomed the idea of a scalding shower, but Ariadne wanted them to all go out for lunch down by the pier and no-one argued.

Plus downstairs waiting, would be where Arthur would be and -unfortunately- not in Eames's hot shower.

He hurriedly put on a different jumper that he knew Arthur would hate with a passion and a coat he hoped Arthur might certify as passable, then he was out the door in odd socks and clean shoes.

Downstairs he spotted Arthur sitting with his legs crossed in an old armchair, reading a book. He guessed it was probably a 19/20th century classic and just about managed to stifle a laugh when he saw it was ' _Great Expectations_.' Only Arthur would read that twice in two years. The thought made a small, endeared smile appear on Eames's face.

Only Arthur.

God he had missed this boy way too much.

He called him a boy but really Arthur was only a year and a bit younger than himself. Yet they graduated at the same time because Arthur started his degree in architecture a year earlier because he's the definition of a smart arsed overachiever who's parents moved him temporarily to London for an 'enriching experience'.

Or maybe it was for a more legitimate reason but Eames could never remember any of it apart from the fact that Arthur was annoyingly clever. He did know though that Arthur had the opportunity to start his degree even earlier, yet he wanted to spend his high school years in high school.

After what must have been longer than a minute did Eames realise he was staring at Arthur like he was some sort of magical, wish-granting unicorn.

Arthur, of course, returned this intense stare with a raised eyebrow.

'I know you find the little things endlessly fascinating, Eames, but gawking at me for a full,' He took a quick glance at his watch, '200 seconds is overdoing it.'

Eames made an effort to clench his jaw and look away. _Smooth_.

'Just can't believe you're really here.' He mumbled.

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'Yes, Eames. I am real and I'm really here. Now hurry up. Ariadne's waiting.'

Snapping his book shut, he placed it on the side table and swiftly stood, making to walk away.

Eames grabbed his wrist.

'I meant it, you know.' Trying to make his voice sound as sincere as it could without sounding fake, was a harder task than it should have been, but he continued regardless, 'It is _really_ good to see you.'

Arthur scoffed and quite obviously fought the smile that tugged at is his lips. It was written all over his face that he didn't want to be dragged back in with Eames and that thought made Eames's heart ache desperately. Wow, he'd really messed things up.

Clicking his fingers in front of Eames's face, Arthur spoke assuredly. 'Don't stand there staring for another eternity, _come on_.'

Eames followed behind him, sparing one last look to the neatly discarded book.

_Only Arthur._

|~*~|

The waitress at the little dine in, was cute albeit slightly orange. She was short, stacked, and blonde. Just Eames's type.

Yet Eames didn't talk to her anymore than was necessary and he would flirt with a stone statue if there was any way to.

Something was off and Arthur didn't like it.  
  
Nash's flirting, however, was so borderline harassment that it made Arthur want to throw him out of the window just to shut him up. Afterwards, he even went as far to go find the waitress and profoundly apologise as well as add three pounds to her tip for her troubles.

Somehow he managed to get her number.

A leisurely stroll on the beach was next on the group/Ariadne's agenda.

~*~

Eames felt like he was caged inside his own mind. Twice it was said to him that he appeared to be off in another world, but he was finding it way too hard to get back to planet Earth.

This was his second chance. There was a lot of pressure to not mess it up. All of this pressure, obviously, being put on himself, by himself.

Traipsing next to Rob he soon found he was mindlessly talking to him about the whole predicament.

'D'ya by any chance think that Arthur's New Year's resolution was that he was going to be all up for 'forgive and forget'? 'Cause that would be great.' He said glumly.

Rob laughed at him. 'You'd be so lucky mate.' He paused momentarily, thinking. 'Have you even apologised yet?'

'Um,' Scratching the back of his head, Eames relived the last moments of him and Arthur, desperately searching for that time he gave him a sincere apology. As it turned out ' _that time_ ' didn't actually exist. '...no.'

'You dick,' Joked, Rob, shoving him lightly, 'Go do it now. He's trailing at the back on his own like a sad puppy.'

Turning round to see Arthur, Eames had to disagree. Arthur looked smart and untouchable as he strolled along, just out of the sea's frantic reach. Hands in pockets, head held high, face unreadable, this was the Arthur he had always known and loved. At the mere sight, Eames felt a burst of want explode inside him, struggling to get out.

Apparently his feet were processing everything faster than his brain, as he found himself midway through walking towards the elegant figure.

Eames caught stride with him as Arthur declared to no-one in particular, 'This beach is moving left.'

Looking down at his feet, bewildered, he asked, 'Is it?'

'Hmm yes, longshore drift.'

'Well I have no idea what you're on about but as ludicrous as it, as it's coming from your mouth I'll just assume it to be right.' This got a smirk from Arthur, which then rapidly turned back into poker face.

'Didn't you do geography at school?'

'Yeah, but I mainly just drew crude pictures in Atlases.'

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'God, you're an idiot.' His words sounded like they were very lightly tinted with fondness, yet Eames was willing to consider the possibility that he was lying to himself.

Taking a deep breath in he stopped, stopping Arthur with him. Who, obviously, in turn scrupulously removed himself from Eames's grip, straightening his jacket before folding his arms in front of chest giving him a look that Eames had seen many a time from many a teacher. The look of someone who was thoroughly unimpressed.

'Look, I can't keep talking to you while we edge round what happened last year.' Eames sighed, running a hand through his blonde shag of hair.

'I wouldn't say we've really been talking.' Arthur contradicted, eyeing him suspiciously.

Eames, against every part of him that told him that it was a bad idea, instinctually put his finger over Arthur's lips to shush him. Staring down at the finger, Arthur surprisingly didn't punch Eames in the face, instead just frowning and raising an eyebrow.

'I need to say that I'm sorry, for everything. Because I am sorry. Honestly. I was awful and I know that. Those few months knowing we were still at the same university but not being able to be with you were absolutely hellish. Of course I brought it all on myself, but still. I missed you like I had never missed anyone and it was hard. It was so hard. But I'm so sorry and I would really appreciate it if you gave me a second chance, even though I don't deserve it.'

He looked pleadingly into Arthur dark eyes and Arthur swiftly swatted his finger from his lips.

'You don't think it was hard on me too?' He hissed, almost venomously. 'It was awful, absolutely freaking awful. And don't give me that crap about you finding it 'hellish', you had a new girl in your room by the end of the week. Don't even dare try to tell me otherwise.'

'How the hell can you know that for definite?' Eames questioned angrily, it was one thing for Arthur to say it was hard on him too, it was another to just presume with certainty that Eames immediately got with someone else. Even if it was the truth. Eames had a hard time remembering that week as he spent most of it thoroughly hammered. Thinking back on it then, Eames punched himself inside when he realised that that's exactly what he had done.

'Because I flipping came to your room. I wanted to see if we could figure something out because as much of a bastard I knew you were I couldn't help wanting you and I couldn't help it if I wasn't really thinking clearly. But seeing you viciously snogging the face off someone else certainly helped clear my vision.' Arthur spat back furiously. The hurt still fresh in his eyes like a wound that just kept on opening itself back up.

By now the rest of the group had stopped to walk towards them and Eames bowed his head as Ariadne came marching up, each step filled with purpose.

'What the hell is going on here?' She demanded and Eames caught a glimpse of Arthur wiping the back of his hand under his eye. _Is he crying? Oh god, what have I done?_

Turning away in embarrassment, Eames headed off in the direction that he came in.

'I'm so sorry.'

With a head full of feelings that he couldn't put into words, Eames stumbled once, twice. Momentarily stopping, to inhale a deep breath of fresh, sea air, he lengthened his stride and carried on, his feet gently sinking into the wet sand.

|~*~|

Sometimes the hurt that people face can be the hardest thing. Other times finding it in themselves to forgive someone for inflicting all that hurt is.

|~*~|

It takes a man with a vile of bravery and self humility to apologise for his sins.

It takes a man with one of fortitude to forgive.

Arthur wasn't sure if he possessed such mental strength or even a vile to aid him.

Sitting on the damp steps, idly digging at the sand with his foot, Arthur wondered if he was in the wrong. Scrolling through the conversation maybe he had been to harsh? Or maybe he was just searching for something to feel guilty about, something that wasn't there.

He knew it was a problem; he over thought everything. Meticulously analysed every word that was said, every small hand gesture, every kiss that was far too quick.

He was more than aware that he did this and he was equally aware that it wasn't exactly good for him.

So that was why it was his first resolution. Due to the fact that Arthur liked the definite structure of lists, he had obviously listed all his resolutions down.

 _1\. Stop over thinking everything-Be more spontaneous._  
2\. Wean yourself of cigarettes.  
3\. Stop letting people push you around.  
4\.  Stop letting Ariadne make you do stupid stuff.

He had four in total, five if you counted the one that latched onto the first. Either way it seemed like a reasonable amount at the time. Four goals that he had to try and achieve during the 366 days.

Stopping over thinking wasn't going well so far. Stopping Ariadne from bossing him around felt like a lost cause and quitting smoking felt so unachievable at the moment that he thought the Gods must have it out for him. Then when Nash, quite literally, pushed past him, he thought of how the third was unlikely to happen as well.

Abruptly woken from his thoughts, Arthur looked to see the presence beside him. Eames.

'Is it true what you said?' Eames asked passively.

'Which part?'

They both stared off into the distance. Watching waves splash against the shore. Light, wistful clouds grasping onto the pinking sky. The odd white silhouette of a bird dotting the horizon. The world was still turning yet everything felt frozen for what could have been forever when Eames turned his face to Arthur's.

'Any of it. All of it.'

'Yes,' Arthur sighed, then simpered. 'The beach is moving left.'

Eames grinned too, elbowing him playfully. He did have such a charmingly crooked smile, it made Arthur's heart wane.

Leaning back on his forearms, Eames challenged, 'I still don't see how that's possible, though I do believe you.'

'Well it's because the swash travels at an angle due to the prevailing wind and then the backwash goes down straight because of gravity. Meaning that over time the sediments are transferred down the beach.' He explained with animated hand gestures.

Heaving a sigh, Eames dramatically put a hand to his head. 'Well that gave me a headache.'

'You're the one that asked.' Arthur shrugged, making himself tear his mutinous eyes away from the plumpness that was the other boy's lips.

'Technically, I didn't.'

'Oo, technically is a long word for you, isn't it?'

Eames shoved him. 'Shut up.' He laughed, giving Arthur a hand up as they both made their way up to the promenade.

Walking in tranquil silence with Eames by his side felt nicer than Arthur thought it had any right to.

|~*~|

Upon arriving at the pub, Eames lightly grabbed his sleeve, smirking.

'I can't believe you're wearing three piece suits and a trench coat. It's freezing.'

Arthur looked down at his coat, 'This is a pea coat.' He corrected, looking very affronted.

'Oh,' Eames contemplated his own coat, perplexed. 'What's this then?'

'That,' Arthur gestured towards him, 'Is ugly.'

'Awh, I thought you'd approve.' He whined, bottom lip stuck out.

'That material is ghastly.'

'Maybe your taste is ghastly.'

'My taste is impeccable and you know it.' Arthur grinned triumphantly which Eames replied with a fond smile.

A quiet lull set in.

'I am, genuinely, sorry, you know?' Eames said, eyes serious.

Arthur shrugged, noncommittally. His eyes turning to the floor. 'Yeah,' An uncertain pause, 'I'm sorry too.'

'What?' Eames exclaimed, grabbing Arthur's brusquely by the shoulders. 'You have nothing to be sorry for!'

Arthur stammered, a rare occurrence, 'Most often or not, when a relationship falls apart, both parties are at fault.'

'No.' Speaking sternly, he bent down to be in Arthur's eye line that was securely fixed to the floor. 'Listen to me, nothing was your fault, understand? It was all me, ok?'

Almost inaudible, his reply came quiet and shaky. 'Ok.'

Carefully, as if Arthur was a faberge egg, Eames coiled his arms around him. A warm embrace in a cold night.

|~*~|

The rest of the week passed easily as the pair spent more time together, more time getting to know each other, all over again. It was, in a word, wonderful.

Then Saturday came and it was the last day and everything felt like it was coming to a close. Like the little bubble they had made for themselves outside of reality was slowly being popped.

Of course it wasn't really, yet still that's what it felt like. Like something important was coming to an end.

They were walking along another beautiful coast, altogether as a group of eight, Arthur and Eames hand in hand.

Stopping for a picnic on the surprisingly dry grass, Dom and Mal lingered by the edge of the cliff.

'I want to fly. Fly right off it.' Contemplated Mal, walking back to the checkered blanket.

They sat and enjoyed their cold sandwiches, talking and laughing as if they had been friends forever.

Arthur kept stealing glances at the ocean.

Spontaneous had never been a word someone would associate with him.

Right here was his chance to prove them wrong.

Yet the logical part of his brain did a whole risk assessment in his mind. Which made him feel a little queasy about the whole idea. He was far too good and thorough at assessing risks, he realised morbidly.

They packed up and moved on from the cliff. Walking away, regret instantly flooded Arthur's mind as the cliff taunted him and his evasive cowardice.

|~*~|

From the coast a quaint marketplace was only a few kilometres away and they spent an hour or so buying a gift for the person they drew out the ashtray (as no one had had a hat to spare). As was Ariadne's brilliant idea so they could all have something to remember the trip by.

Arthur was reminded of why he sometimes let Ari order him about; sometimes her ideas were stellar. Nash ruined it slightly by blatantly groaning when he picked a name out, but everything else was great.

Taking his time, sifting out the best offers, Arthur found a wonderful bunch of gifts in a whimsical bizarre shop.

Regrouping at the café from where they borrowed the ashtray, the group decided to go back up to the cliff to exchange gifts.

Back up the cliff it was revealed that Mal got Rob a ' _Top 25 Cornish recipes'_ cookbook. Rob got Ari a periwinkle bobble hat and a heart shaped stone with 'Cornwall' etched on in white. Ari got Dom a ' _My job is top secret, even I don't know what I'm doing_ ', mug and Dom got Eames a bottle of 'real' Cornish ale and a sky blue, camper van money box. Eames awkwardly gave Yusuf, another friend Nash had brought, two pairs of extra thick chequered socks for the journey back and some sort of fancy paper weight.

Yusuf got Nash a six pack of beer and an ' _I'm trying to be awesome today, but I'm exhausted from being so freaking awesome yesterday'_ mug because _obviously_ Nash needed an ego boost. Nash then uncomfortably passed his blue plastic bag over to Arthur, who frowned at the thought that it was _his_ name Nash had groaned at.

Nash, for all his efforts, actually got him a decent gift.

Arthur acquired a pair of cufflinks containing stones from Cornwall that he immediately took a liking to, a silken pocket square, and, for some reason, a snow globe. That for all its tackiness was rather charming.

Nash scratched the back of his head. 'I want really sure what ta get ya, Ari is always complainin', saying you're real hard to shop for. It's ok though, yeah?'

'Yeah, it's great.'

Arthur got Mal a vintage inspired comb with diamanté and pearls as well as a map of the coastline scarf. He also got Ariadne a hexagonal pile gemstone crystal, that hung simply from the end of an elegant chain. She loved it. A travel journal and a scratch the world map (where you scratch off the countries you've been to, to reveal an intricate map), he presented to Eames, who in exchange gave him a ' _I can explain it to you, but I can't understand it for you_ ' t-shirt that he had somehow managed to find.

They sat for a while, admiring their gifts and finding out what everyone else thought of their's.

In a fit which felt like pure madness, Arthur quietly and discreetly kicked off his shoes, yanked off his coat, jacket, and waistcoat then went running towards the edge.

'What the hell are you doing!?' Ariadne shrieked, running towards him, just behind Eames who looked as gobsmacked as ever.

Arthur turned his head from them and to the water as a pebble went soaring down. Damn, it was high.

Pulling up any quotes that he could from his database, he recited to himself, ' _don't let doubt fear sabotage your actions', 'now or never', F. alse, E.vidence, A.ppearing, R.eal', 'we only regret the chances we didn't take', 'STOP THINKING; JUST DO IT'._

Gulping, he looked towards Eames who was standing a safe distance away, the wind rushing through his hair.

'Dare me?'

'Always.'

Then much to Ari's protests he did a run up and jumped.

|~*~|

A cliff no longer stood in his way. Nothing did. In those few moments of free falling he felt invisible.

Terrified but invisible.

|~*~|

It wasn't as much like falling as it was flying. It was just air soaring past him, a huge rush of adrenalin, pressure in a tank building up, a volcano ready to blow, a song reaching its final climax, a rocket building up, ready for take off-

_Splash!_

|~*~|

They were sitting outside, looking out towards the sea, the stars shining above them in the dark. After the eventful day and draining swim, Arthur was weary and only half paying attention when Eames spoke.

'You were exceptional today.' He murmured, looking straight on. 'Bloody mental but exceptional all the same.'

Arthur smiled to himself as shivers ran up his spine. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea in this weather. Eames noticed, he noticed everything, and wrapped his coat around Arthur's slim frame. Neither spoke for a while.

'I want to steal you.' Eames eventually said, voice gravelly and tone resolute.

Arthur huffed in amusement, 'You know that's called kidnapping, right?'

Eames smirked and paused to take a deep drag of his cigarette. The waves lapped at the shore, unseeable foam frothing at the surface.

Turning back to Arthur, he looked serious. Light creases on his face visible from the decrepit lamp.

'Not if you want to come with me.' He voice was dry. Rough. Stern. Flicking his disregarded cigarette to who knows where, he wiped his thighs of imaginable dust and strode off.

Arthur sat there quietly.

The stars still shone above him. The waves still lapped at the shore. The decrepit lamp still shone.

Nothing seemed to have changed.

Yet Arthur's heart rate had.

|~*~|

In the morning when bags were packed and people we're swapping contact information, Arthur read.

Eames came up behind him.

'So what do ya say?'

'Normally, as a greeting, good morning, you?' Arthur quipped, raising that goddamn eyebrow.

Ignoring him, Eames sat opposite.

'You're not doing anything, I'm not doing anything.' He paused and something in his face, in his eyes, in his manner, let Arthur know he was nervous. He sighed, 'Let me steal you?'

Arthur bit his lip thoughtfully.

_Screw it, I jumped off a cliff yesterday._

'What do you have in mind?'

'Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam. Cheap flights, shocking accommodation.'

Eames's grin reflected his own.

'You're on.'


End file.
